


Then again....

by paige_turner



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paige_turner/pseuds/paige_turner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone's being haunted by her past...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's a Place in My Mind Where the Darkness Lives

“No Peggy.”

“Please En, just this once.”

“This once? Peggy, I swear I spend more time with the boy than even Jarvis does, and he’s the live-in butler.”

“Oh stop being so dramatic… I know you love Anthony as if he were James’ son.”

My breath caught in my throat as my thoughts derailed, leaving me scrambling to escape the wreck of memories that threatened to bury me.  
“He’ll be arriving in about five minutes.” Peggy’s voice fell on deaf ears.

Faces, voices, places. One after another like waves of soldiers flooding a battlefield.

Miles away a key rattled in a lock before a heavy timber door groaned at being disturbed from its slumber.

Steve, dirt covered face and tired eyes led his team through the blast door, back out into the light.  
“E, are you coming?” Bucky’s slate blue eyes watched me, a look of curiosity pulling at his brows, “E?”  
“E?” a different voice spilled from my husband’s lips causing me to frown.

 

“Aunt E?”

The scene of wartime destruction faded away, retreating like the rest of my painful memories into the depths of the darkest recesses of my mind. A dark head of curls, warm brown eyes and a childish grin took the form of a tiny boy who currently stared at me as though I were the centre of his universe.

“Hello, Anthony.”

The Stark heir frowned slightly, “Aunt E, are you ok?”

My lips stretched into a smile as my arms engulfed the young boy in my arms, “I’m fine, I just can’t believe it’s you. Look how much you’ve grown!”

“Ugh, Aunt E,” he wriggled about, “you saw me last Friday. I haven’t had time to grow any noticeable amount!”

“An Aunt always knows.” I smiled, releasing him. “What do you say, wanna grab some ice-cream before dinner?

He beamed, grabbing hold of my hand and all but pulling me out the door, “From our special spot?”

I grabbed my purse and coat, “Of course.”  
He punched the air, letting out a whoop of celebration as he waited by the door.


	2. There is no quit in S.H.I.E.L.D but death...

BANG! The main door to the Director’s office burst open, slamming against the thick reinforced concrete walls of the headquarters shattering the handles into unidentifiable pieces.

“You bastard!”

The petite brunette lunged for the multi-millionaire, firm fist colliding with the startled man’s nose.

Guards lunged from their positions, attempting to restrain one of the organisation’s top agents, “Easy Zero.” With a stroke, the guards lay unconscious on the floor.

“After everything that happened, you want to let fucking Zola into your top secret organisation! Have you lost your mind, or have you just forgotten about what that asshole did to Steve, to Bucky, to me?”

Stark clutched at his nose, waving his dim-witted secretary away, “Christ, do you know how much a nose job costs, Envy?”

Peggy appeared from the shadows, an image of professionalism as she assessed the situation.

“Fuck you, Stark. You lost the privilege of my first name when you hired the germ. It’s Barnes to you now.”

“I promise, you won’t ever have to work with Zola,” the inventor tried to bargain.

Envy’s face grew murderous, “Yes, I won’t,” her voice was quiet and deadly, “I quit.”

 

Before either of the two could respond Envy had disappeared. 

“What have you done now, Howard?” Peggy inquired, offering a handkerchief to her bloody-nosed friend.

“Something I hope I don’t live to regret. Besides, no one like her ever actually quits... they only retire.”


	3. The Winter Soldier

The aroma of coffee and pancakes filled my senses as a figure paused at the edge of my peripheral. “Would you like me to heat that up for you?” a smooth, controlled voice broke through my despair, “Because glaring at it certainly isn’t doing anything.”

I chuckled darkly, “What are you doing still running around after, Stark.”

“This isn’t about Stark,” the newest recruit seethed, sliding into the booth opposite me.

“Did I hit a nerve, Maria?”

The young brunette ignored my comment, returning her face to a practice expression.

“Then what is it? Because I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted nothing to do with SHIELD when Howard hired the German Grub.”

“I’m repaying a favour to Carter. She thought you’d want to know that we found him.”

My eyes studied her face harder for any signs of deceit, “The Soldier? It's been ten years since he was last sighted.”

“Well, an agent just ID’d him on a mission.”

“So…Stark wants me to check it out, off the books?”

“You always were one step ahead, Ms Moore,” Maria mocked, sliding from the booth.

“It’s Barnes,” I spat, my glare piercing the side of her head.

“Did I hit a nerve, Envy?” she smirked as she sauntered back through the kitchen’s doors.

 

With a wistful sigh, I let my head fall to the table, beyond the point of even caring about what the other patrons might think of me.

It had been years since the Winter Soldier’s last appearance. To be honest, it had been years since his first.

Forever ingrained in my memory was the night he first appeared. I had been dreaming, or at least, I thought I had been at the time. 

\----

The moonlight that was carried in on the icy winter breeze filtered through the open window. I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as they adjusted to the minimal light.

In the corner of the room by the door stood the broad-shouldered form of my husband, concealed by the shadow of the door. I frowned and pulled the bed covers down, patting the space beside me.

“Come back to bed, James.”

I turned away from the window, facing towards the other side of the bed.  
The floorboards groaned under transferring weight, bringing a smile to my face as my eyes fluttered, fighting to shut once more. In the half-light of the moon, something glistened as the form moved towards the bed. I sighed in contentment and allowed myself to return to sleep as a weight made the mattress sag.

\----

I had awoken to find my window open when I had closed it the night before, the bed covered in smudges, a deadly looking hunting knife resting on the bedside table and my kitchen thoroughly ravaged.

S.H.I.E.L.D after a comprehensive search of my apartment and extensive debrief had labelled the almost assassin The Winter Soldier.

His pattern was sporadic, and he managed to stay off our radar for years at a time.

I had never again been as close as the first night, though, on my last mission, I had been able to see the blazing red star on his shining metal arm as he stood and left his position. The S.H.I.E.L.D informant lay dead in the hotel room. His mission was complete.

My sight locked on him. My rifle loaded. Though my finger refused to squeeze the trigger.

Something was stopping me, much like I suspect something had stopped him from killing me that night in my apartment so many years ago.

Then again, he was my mission.


	4. A Grub in the Freezer Box...

Mould and antiseptic. 

A strange combination that still clashed like symphony cymbals in my nose upon every breath. Each one as putrid as the other, even when filtered through the rough, itchy material of the bag that had occupied my head for the past three days, two hours, forty-seven minutes and tw-thirteen seconds.

My shoulders and arms screamed at me in the recesses of my mind. They hung like meat on a cold, thick tangle of chains and spikes, fatigued from the bizarre position. I breathed through the experience pushing everything but the time and my breathing into the oblivion once more. 

"-sure you, sir. She's restrained," a new voice filled my ears as a door was pulled open, metal hinges grinding from lack of maintenance.

"Well done! I expected more from her, then again," the German accent became detectable at that moment and my teeth instinctually gritted, "the mighty always fall."

There was a scrape of heavy military boots against the floor and a bang as the door leading into my personal hell was slammed closed.

"You have been a thorn in the side of my progress, Miss Moore," his voice came from above me, beside me, behind me, bouncing off the walls in a terrible echoing loop.

"It's Barnes."

"Poisonous tone for someone so dehydrated..." I could almost picture his smug little smirk.

"Dangerous words for a prisoner of war," I rebutted, continuing to count the seconds for fear of losing my sense of reality.

"Unlike others before you, I offer you a choice... Compliance or death."

I laughed at his offer, "Go to hell."

"I am sure I will, Miss Moore. Though not before you do." He backed away from me, his cheap cologne brushing against my skin like an unwanted lover before disappearing into the stench of the room. 

Three days, two hours, forty-nine minutes and fifty-six seconds.

"Bring in the Soldier."

My throat seized for a moment as my mind calculated the possibility of Zola's Soldier being S.H.I.E.L.D's Winter Soldier.

With a less than graceful tug, the hood was extracted from my head. The blinding fluorescent light burnt at my eyes for a moment as figures and outlines and colours mashed into white, a disgustingly cheap version of abstract art.

After a moment, the scene corrected itself as my gaze landed on the black boots of a man who stood in the open doorway.  
Rising beyond the black cargo pants and the simple leather belt, further above a plain white singlet, up past the intricate webbing of scars and metal plating that was a right shoulder.

Slate blue. Cold, calculating, watchful and locked on me.

"James." The name tumbled from my lips before I could think to catch it.

 

Flashes of light and colour, names and voices, sounds and smells assaulted my mind. One after another, a never-ending stream of incomprehensible moments from a time I wished I could forget.

A scream filled the room, ear-piercing and anguished like a howling wail made by the mythical banshees. My soul flinched at the noise, curling in on itself as though that could protect it.

 

Before I could summon a conscious thought or identify the source of the sound, a stabbing pain radiated from my neck. The noise stopped and darkness swallowed me whole.


End file.
